Like We Do
by orihara
Summary: Why is it that the most ridiculous things happen during the Marching Band Season? A series of connected one shots by members of a Marching Band.
1. The Welcoming Committee

**The Welcoming Committee **

No, this was not the end of a grand era of middle school. No, he was not going to step into those double doors and face a monstrosity called Band Camp. And for some reason, he didn't think it was going to be much like the movie anyway.

"Are you a freshman?" asked a boy with shaggy brown hair and a beard, "I hope you know the band room is in the basement. Standing out here isn't going to do you any good."

No, he was not going to let an upperclassmen push him around just because he was new, "Okay..thanks…" but being nice was probably the best.

"So what's your name?" asked the bearded youth walking towards the door, the younger boy followed, "I'm Jeffery, but everyone calls me Panama."

"Panama? Why's that?"

"Because I missed two days of band camp my freshman year because my family was vacationing in Panama. I kind of like it," the boy smiled as the two made their way down to the echoing hallway which was painted with an awful half finished mural of Mozart and what looked like Bob Marley smoking a doobie, "And your name?"

"I'm Asher."

"What do you play?"

"Baritone."

"That's going to suck, have you ever played a marching baritone?"

"No?"

"Well, I suggest you start pumping iron my friend, the kids who play it now always get scolded for their chicken arms," the boy laughed.

It couldn't really be that bad. There's no way a marching baritone would be _that_ bad to carry. Asher blocked the thought out of his mind, "What do you play?"

Panama laughed, "Nothing. I'm the drum major."

"Drum major?"

Panama stopped at the door to the band room, "It's a fancy word for saying that I control what you guys do. I'm quite the gracious leader, but if you want a _nice _drum major, I suggest you talk to my subordinate Will."

Asher wasn't sure what to think, "Okay," was all he said as he walked into the band room and took a seat in the back.

The room began to file up very quickly all filled with people Asher didn't know. He was able to spot out the woodwinds without a doubt—always loud. Then the low brass players who walked in and just sat in their seats—and then there were the drummers, the most intelligent people of the band. Asher spotted one with curly brown hair as he walked in to the room like he owned the place and ran right back out yelling "Shit! I just locked my keys in the car!"

Soon everyone got to their seats, it was nearing 9AM and Asher had a whole other 12 hours to get through. At first it seemed ridiculous to him that he would have to go to band camp from 9AM to 9PM the first week and from noon to 9PM the next. It was almost ridiculous to him. He couldn't deal with it.

Panama got up to the directors podium and blew the whistle very hard, Asher was surprised by the sheer volume and brute force that one simple whistle could produce, "Alright guys! Take your seats. It's time to start band camp!"

Some people rushed to their seats while the others went on their own time, Asher didn't realize how large the band was, there was just enough seats for everyone, but the room was packed.

"To start everything off, I'm pleased to announce that we are two people away from being a Group Five band, so good job recruiting everyone!"

Everyone cheered. What the _hell_ was a Group Five? Asher looked around for someone who would be willing to explained, but Panama began again before he could figure out anything, "And for those of you who didn't attend any of the earlier summer rehearsals, which was a disappointing few," Asher sunk into his chair, he didn't know about any summer rehearsals, "Our show for this year is 'The Empire'"

A collective, sarcastic 'Oooo' from the crowd erupted

"I know, I know, we digress—the show is going to be difficult this year. And I plan on us taking the highest score we can get, preferably above a 90 so that us seniors can leave this band Open. We are the Marching Knights, and we will kick ass," Panama waited for everything to sink in, "And now, I would like to introduce your Junior Drum Major, Mr. Will Easton."

A boy with a rag of blonde hair smiled and everyone cheered loudly, "Hey guys, let's have a good band camp."

So, he was the nice one. A taller, older man, presumably the band director walked into the room and silently shooed Panama off of the podium, he stood up, "Alright, I'm going to make this quick and painless. I'm Mr. Worth your band director and I expect great things from all of you kids. Even you freshman. We're going to break off into sections for," he glanced down at his watch, "Ten minutes and meet outside on the parking lot to learn basics! Stay hydrated, don't whine because we all know it's hot, and wear sunscreen."

And with that, the band teacher left and Panama shouted, "Alright guys, you heard him!"

Now, realistically speaking a room with 101 people trying to figure out what section they belonged to was not going to work when everyone was shouting over everyone else. Asher stood up and looked around, trying to figure out where he belonged until he saw a blonde girl yelling, "Low Brass! Get over here!"

Making his way over quickly, Asher stood near the girl, "Freshman?" she asked although she already knew, "Welcome to the club, what's your name?"

"Asher."

"I'm Annette, I play tuba. You?"

Oh, shit. "Baritone."

Annette laughed, "Congradulations, the baritones in this section are—wonderful."

"Are you talking about me?" asked a boy with oversized glasses but an excellent sense of style. Asher couldn't make sense of his outfit, "I'm Sampson, not Sam, Sampson. There's four of us. You, me, James Hidalgo and Sammie."

Alright, Asher was going to get this down, "Got it."

Annette called over a boy, "This is Tomas, our foreign friend who also plays tuba and," she pointed to a crowd of six others, "Those losers are the trombone players, they just want their own section."

"Got it."

Annette paused, "Oh! I'm your section leader. If you have any problems just come to me, kay?"

"Are their any other freshman?"

Annette smiled, "Yeah, she plays baritone too."

"Another one!" Sampson said quickly.

Annette smiled, "She's my little sister. I convinced her to join, and believe me I'll kick all of you asses if you try to do anything to her."

"You have a sister?!" Sampson exclaimed.

Annette rolled her eyes, "Welcome to the Marching Knights, Asher."

**Questions? Comments? Suggestions? I'm open to anything. **


	2. The Grass Is Always Greener

**The Grass Is Always Greener**

Will stood outside of the band room as all of the sections began introducing themselves to each other. He knew that being a Drum Major was something that was going to be hard to get used to, but it had always seemed to be the most glamorous thing as he played in the band. It was everything he had ever dreamed of, and when he made it, it couldn't have been more lonely.

"What wrong?" asked Panama interrupting Will's thoughts. He should probably get used to it.

Will shrugged, "I don't feel important yet."

"I never felt important."

"Really? You were so good last year. Everyone was afraid of you!" probably not the best thing to say.

Panama rolled his eyes, "That was the last thing I wanted. I screwed it up and made this Drum Major persona that definitely isn't me. But it's what I'm stuck with and if that's how I can motivate people to actually do the right thing then that's it."

"Do you miss marching?"

"I get used to missing it that I don't miss it anymore."

"I miss the trombone section," Will said honestly.

"They're just a pack of losers."

"I've heard that one before."

Panama started walking away from Will, "Let's go, we've got things to do before the rest of the band come out."

Will followed Panama blindly, he literally had no idea what he was supposed to do at that particular moment, and perhaps maybe that was half of the challenge of being the drum major. Figuring out what the hell you're supposed to do. He understood that he was going to learn how to conduct and wave his arms around like a lunatic, and command the band using military calls that may seem "cool" or trivial to the outside viewer. Other than that, he couldn't find his purpose in the band.

The two walked out into the cool morning, the sun wasn't nearly ready for it's blazing return onto the parking lot, and no one was really ready for it either. Panama went to the side of the school and grabbed a pile of cones, placing half into Wills' hands, "You put these on the close side of the parking lot," Panama began, "I'll go to the far side. As soon as those kids come out make them line up in a basics block."

Basics. One thing Will was certainly not going to miss.

"Can do."

They placed the cones as the band began to file out without their instruments, but the tireless colorguard was ready to start their work with practice flags in hand.

"Alright line up!" Will called out to deaf ears, "Line up okay?" he was beginning to think that this was getting harder than it should be. No one could hear him through their own social lives and a wave of dread and panic swept up Will's spirits simultaneously.

A whistle blew loudly, startling everyone, including Will, "Band camp starts now!" Panama yelled, "Basics block?"

"No character building?" asked a cymbal player.

Panama laughed, "Not until you can hold up your cymbals for ten minutes without crying."

"Satan."

Will observed this behavior and wished he had some sort of notebook and paper to record everything that had just happened. Now, he knew he could be no Panama when it came to violence, but perhaps cunning and flair would be all he needed in order to succeed.

"Subordinate!" called Panama.

Will was startled, yet again, "Yes?"

"I have your first mission for you," Panama went over quickly, "There's a freshman down in the band room who is scared shitless of everyone. So, I need you to convince her that marching band is the correct path for her to choose. Be nice about it, and don't make it a big deal, kay?"

Will nodded, social interaction!? With someone he didn't know!? Now this was probably what being a drum major was all about. Taking a deep breath, "Alright. I'll do it."

"It's not like you had a choice?"

Will turned and walked triumphantly to the band room. He would be able to handle the situation as best as he could. He would become the hero of the marching band no doubt, and he would be well known. Inscribed in the hearts of everyone he was in charge of.

The blonde walked into the room and saw a girl sitting by herself in a corner of the room. She had her cell phone and was nervously holding it. Her hair was a deep red color, that didn't look like anything else he had ever seen, "Excuse me?" Will's heart was racing, authority was pulsing through his veins, "I'm Will."

He casually sat next to her and could almost feel the girl shrink away, "So, you're thinking about qutting marching band?"

She wouldn't answer at first.

"Well, I know you know that I'm here to convince you to stay...but...why would you want to leave?" Alright, Will. Great start.

She swallowed, "The people in my section are a little mean."

"What do you play?"

"Piccolo."

Will could see the predicament already. It was always the woodwinds that destroyed young souls, "They probably told you that you couldn't play, didn't they?"

She nodded.

"How long have you played piccolo?"

"My whole life."

Why on this green, somewhat polluted earth would someone choose the piccolo as their first instrument. With that thought aside, Will continued, "You're probably better than half of them. In fact, I'm not even sure why you can't play because I know for a fact out piccolo player is better off dead."

The girl's face lit up, "Really? Do you think I could play it? It's the only instrument that I own."

Will looked out for a moment thinking of anything that he could do, "You'll have to challenge her. Can you do that for me?"

The girl suddenly looked scared again.

"Don't worry, the other piccolo player, she's not exactly a friend of mine and you would do nothing but make me smile if you knock that pretentious player right off of her pedestal."

The red head seemed to calm down...at least a little, "I'm Olive."

Will scrunched up his face, "I'll forgive you for being a piccolo player, but from now on I'm calling you Red. Now get up, and let's go learn basics. I'll figure everything out for you, alright?"

Olive, who was newly deemed Red smiled and stood up. Her heart suddenly galloped at the sight of Will, she knew it was going to be the beginning of something. But it was just he beginning of a freshman fantasy of being with the kindest, sweetest, most talented Drum Major she would ever lay her eyes on.

**Thank you for the comments everyone!  
More would be wonderful, delightful in fact :B**


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